In Short: Gadge
by lostinthememories
Summary: Gadge oneshots/twoshots/threeshots, anything I don't think needs its own individual story. Will be updated as I write more. No smut. Enjoy!
1. Badminton

_First of my oneshot collection! Inspired by a horrible day in gym class (which may or may not have been today) where I lost all my self-confidence over a game of badminton. Enjoy (while you wait for the next chapter of FTFNP)!_

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><p>"I can't do this, I can't do this," the blonde's voice is high as she laughs at herself. It's been a few minutes now and she still hasn't managed to get the birdie over the net. It either falls off of the racket, jumps limply into the air, or stays (somehow) in her hand. Gale's friends roll their eyes (actually saying anything to her gets them a harsh look from Mr. Underwood) but he can't help but watch her with an odd fascination.<p>

She's small and pale; that much is obvious. Her face is red, and her smile is becoming much more forced and pained. Gale notices how her hair shines in the overhead lights; it isn't exactly blonde, like Delly's or that kid Mellark's, but it's more of a gold. Like the sunset.

Her name is Madge. One of the richest girls in school, but she never acts like it. The only people that don't like her are jealous, gullible or holding some sixth-grade grudge. Gale only sees her in this class, as it is the only one that mixes all four grades at the high school. It's only been a couple weeks since he started his senior year, and it is today that he really starts noticing the frustrated girl across the court from him.

After a few more failed attempts, she stops trying to laugh at herself. It's clear that her discoordination is starting to make her self-conscious. Her partner, a tall, dark-haired girl, looks at her sympathetically and says, "I'll serve."

She smiles slightly and bites her nails as she watches the birdie fly perfectly over the net. Thom dashes for it and just barely hits it back. He grins, looking proud of himself, and Gale rolls his eyes but can't help but smile a little too;_ is Madge looking at him?_ If so, her eyes quickly dart in the opposite direction.

Gale watches in amusement as she suddenly realizes the birdie is flying towards her; his smirk turns into a gape as she hits it with smooth ease, as if she hadn't been miserably failing the last twenty minutes. It sails right towards him, and he hits it back just in time, right into the net. She holds back a smile as she coolly strides below the net to reach it. "Your serve," Thom shouts, and Gale sees him wink at Madge. He clenches his jaw without really knowing it.

"God help me," she muses, and Thom and the girl next to Madge both laugh a little. It only takes about seven tries before she makes a clean shot. Gale knows she must think that they've gotten impatient with her, and in all honesty, the three people around her are probably the only ones in the class who _wouldn't_ make a rude remark or roll their eyes or sigh dramatically. Perhaps Mr. Underwood put them together for that reason.

The game continues slowly, and Gale glances at the clock several times in only a few minutes. Next time it's Madge's serve, he calls gently, "Try holding the racket at an angle." Instantly, he regrets it. She looks at him as though she's wounded; her face flushes a deeper shade of red. But she does what he says (without looking at him) and the serve just barely hits the tip of Gale's racket.

Finding himself blushing, Madge seems to play with a new vigor. She's not quite _better,_ but she's becoming a little less_ terrible._

Thom notices his friend's movements become less sharp and balanced and smirks to himself. _Gale? Getting flustered with this little Undersee girl?_ Sure, she's pretty, but she's not Gale's type. Or so he thinks.

Just as Gale raises his racket to hit the birdie, Thom "accidentally" nudges him, causing it to fly crookedly over the service line. Gale shoots him a frown and Thom can't help but laugh out loud. Tossing it back, Madge shouts, her voice shaking a little, "Try holding the racket at an angle."

Thom and the girl on Madge's team burst out in real laughter this time, and a real smile breaks out on Madge's face. He feels his cheeks grow warmer and looks down at the ground; when he looks up, Madge's smile is gone from her lips but still playing at her eyes.

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><p>"Sorry about them," Gale mutters as he and Madge take down one of the nets. "Thom doesn't know when to shut the hell up."<p>

Madge laughs. "If it helps you any, that's the first time I've ever laughed at someone else besides myself in this class."

"Uhm," Gale clears his throat, "you're not bad, really." It's a lie, she _is_ bad, but Gale says it anyway.

She laughs louder again, and Gale's heart stutters. "I hit it, like, six times," she shakes her head, attempting to tie a knot around the two poles and the net bunched in between them. "Dammit," she curses under her breath. "I can't tie knots, either."

"Here," he breathes, gently prying her hands from the knot. He pretends not to hear the soft gasp that escapes her lips. His fingers nimbly work the material into a tight knot, and she smiles again. "I don't know how they're going to untie that one," she smiles.

He laughs. "But really," he tries again, rubbing the back of his neck. "You're not too bad."

"Yeah," she nods, raising her eyebrows, "It only took me about a hundred times that one serve."

"Seven," his voice is small. He _feels_ small. Gale realizes with some embarrassment that he has never felt so insignificant in front of a girl. It's not because she's off-putting or intimidating, but he can't put his finger on it. Just the way she glows, he decides. The way she laughs and smiles and crumbles before him without missing a beat.

"Hm?" she raises her eyebrows.

"Seven times, you hit it," he stutters, a little louder, feeling silly now. Why would he even count? But she laughs again. "I was off a little, I suppose," she says softly.

"Yeah," he chuckles nervously.

"I'm only really good at music," she shrugs. "Piano. I like writing songs and things like that. I'm not good at much else."

"I'm sure there's more," he tells her, imagining her long, slender fingers moving across the ivory keys of a piano - one his family could never afford. The piano in his thoughts fades, and suddenly he imagines the same fingers traveling down his jaw, her full, pink lips meeting his own...

"Not really," she shakes her head, not a drop of self-pity in her voice. "But there's no room for skills like that here."

"What do you mean?" Gale finds himself wondering.

"I have to be someone," she says. "It's high school. I can't be 'the girl who's good at piano,' so instead I have to be 'the girl who sucks at sports.'"

It bothers him how right she is. In a sense. Madge is going to be labeled as something; so is he. And there's nothing either one of them can do about it. But Gale wishes he could watch her be herself, not the red-faced girl in gym shorts that are far too big for her. "Anyway," she clears her throat. "The bell's going to ring soon. See you, Gale."

"Yeah," he rasps, "see you."

She smiles over her shoulder before walking out of the storage closet. And Gale feels so dizzy and overcome with some sort of feeling that he just stands there, wanting to figure it out but being unable to. He stands there for a long time, not hearing the bell go off, until Mr. Underwood lectures him sternly. Then he realizes he's not out of his gym clothes yet and the passing period is seconds away from ending.

"I'm not giving you a pass, Hawthorne," the teacher snaps. "Explain it to your teacher yourself."

"Yes sir," Gale nearly whispers as he opens the door to the locker room. _Damn you, Undersee,_ he thinks, shaking his head. _You're going to be the death of me._

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><p><em>Thoughts? Reviews appreciated! xoxo<em>


	2. Valentine's Day

**Disclaimer: Sorry this is a little late. I have lost a lot of sleep over the week and so I slept about 15 hours since yesterday afternoon. But I hope you still enjoy it!**

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><p>Madge always hated Valentine's Day.<p>

It's not because she was a cynic, or because she didn't believe in love, or because she didn't like the idea, but more because she had no one to share it with. She was always the girl with her nose in a book, her cornsilk curls tucked behind her ears, the left side of her lower lip always torn from the way she chewed it when she was anxious. It wasn't that Madge wasn't pretty or stylish; she had well enough potential to be one of the most popular girls in school. It was simply because she hadn't the time or the will for the catty monarchy that ruled Seamtown High.

She sat in her desk, slumping, her legs stretched out, her aqua-colored Keds firm against the back of the empty desk in front of her. She's always the first one in her homeroom; it's not like she fits into any of the before-school shenanigans that go on. There's the jocks, guys and girls, who spend all their time in the locker rooms and gym (running for fun - something Madge never made sense of). There's the preps, who huddle at one big table at the far end of the cafeteria doing their nails, curling their hair (unplugging the cafeteria microwave to plug in their irons), reading magazines and of course, gossiping. There were the "geeks" and "nerds," with an obvious difference that Madge could never identify, sitting at two tables whispering hushed insults to each other across the room. The geeks traded cards of some fantasy game and doodled some sort of secret code onto the notebooks of one another. The nerds studied, made a game out of quizzing each other, generally looking down at all below them. Such as the troublemakers, the kids with their hoods up and heads down, causing general inconveniences and mild acts of vandalism. They were never fully present at first period, always finishing up recieving a lecture in the office when the first bell rang.

Madge wasn't any of these, and she'd hoped she would never acquiesce to any of them. She liked to think of herself as a simple girl. A girl who took black-and-white photos, drank tea, wore the same pair of shoes until they wore out, and enjoyed making her parents proud. It wasn't that she was a bore, either. She had a sharp wit and found some things funny that others would either roll their eyes or grimace at, and she - as much as she hated to admit it - laughed pretty hard at jokes that required a knowledge of history or physics. A stupid pun never failed to undo her, but of course, she was rarely ever told them.

But Gale Hawthorne was definitely well-fit into one of the incredibly defined groups of STH. He was a troublemaker.

All of the girls who had little respect for themselves and their emotional health went after him. Rumors of his sexual prowess did not escape Madge's ears, but instead of making her blush or giggle (like everyone else), she rolled her eyes. She'd like to think that she was eternally annoyed with Gale, although, being as quiet as she was, she'd never voiced this to him. She likes to think it's because she'd never given him the chance to approach her, but it was this Monday, Valentine's Day, that he'd given himself the chance.

"Madge, right?" his voice is smooth as he drops himself into the desk she had been pushing her feet against. She looks up at him suspiciously. "Why so quiet?" he smirks, putting a stick of gum into his mouth as he raises an eyebrow.

"Nothing to say," she murmurs matter-of-factly, turning the page of her book to accentuate her point. Gale cranes his neck to see the title. "'Paper Towns,' huh?"

"Mm," Madge nods vaguely, her eyes moving rapidly over the words, although she somehow can't exactly concentrate on them.

"I read a little bit of that," Gale shrugs, and to this Madge raises an eyebrow. Gale doesn't even read the labels on his textbooks, let alone a few pages of anything that he'd actually have to enter the library at will to lay his hands on. "A lot of swearing. Sexual innuendo."

"Like that bothers you," she raises her head to him, now rolling her eyes. Still, she finds the words tumbling out of her mouth. "Since when do you read, Gale?"

The gum cracks in his mouth as he shrugs, his eyes darting away from her. "This one hot chick I used to like said it was her favorite. I'd figure if we had something to talk about, I could get in her pants sooner." He laughs as he sees Madge's dismayed - perhaps horrified - face, and he chuckles loudly. "Kidding."

"Hilarious," she mutters, the sarcasm nearly visible in her voice. "Now can I help you?"

"Well, things with her didn't really work out," he sighs, swinging his legs up onto the desk in the row beside him. She found her eyes tracing the defined line they create, the dark jeans obscuring nothing and everything at the same time. She quickly looks away upon the realization. "My friends started calling her Foxface. Said she was ugly as shit."

"That's nice." Madge is becoming more agitated, nearly asking him to leave when he speaks again. "She wasn't, really. Wouldn't have sex with me, but I broke up with her for more complicated reasons."

"Because you are such a complicated person," Madge quips.

"Exactly," Gale grins. "So it's Valentine's Day. People in love and acting like fucking idiots. I feel a little lonely, how about you?" Madge doesn't respond. "You look lonely. But I don't know why you sit here like this. You should be out there getting laid."

Madge shuts her book. "Excuse me?" she looks up at him, eyebrows raised in an are-you-kidding-me expression.

"What?" he laughs, which is seriously starting to annoy Madge. "You're beautiful, Undersee. You could get any guy in this school."

Madge doesn't know what to say, but her head starts spinning. Did Gale Hawthorne really just call her _beautiful?_ She hasn't ever heard him say that word; he and his friends use terms of much higher vulgarity when speaking of the attractiveness of females. She swallows thickly, daring to meet his eyes again. He hasn't missed a beat. "You wanna sit with me at lunch, Madge?" his obnoxious smirk turns into a somewhat less obnoxious smile. "None of my other friends will be around. Probably be fucking in the bathroom or something."

She can't help but laugh a little. "Sure," she shrugs, trying hard to remain nonchalant but it's suddenly so hard. Did a boy just ask her to eat with him? She won't have to sit alone reading a book this time? Keep your cool, keep your cool, she coaches herself. "Heard they've got free cupcakes in the cafeteria for the special occasion."

"Awesome," Gale grins, getting up just as the last warning bell rings. "But they're probably not as sweet as you." And with a wink,

_What just happened?_ Madge scolds herself. _Damn you, Hawthorne. I don't even like you._

But things can change; after all, she feels the hatred of Saint Valentine's Holiday starting to burn a little less in her mind.

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><p><em>AN: Unless a lot of people ask, a part two will probably not happen. But I hope you liked it anyway. :) Reviews appreciated! FTFNP will be updated soon!_


	3. Doritos

Madge frustratedly throws her remote across the room. _Bang!_ it hits the wall. She looks over at Delly, her sleeping roommate, and breathes a small sigh of relief. "I'm hungry," she tells no one in particular. "I'm going to get some food."

The convenience store is a block downtown. It's one in the morning, but hell, is she hungry, and if she doesn't spend her remaining $2.33 on food, then what is she truly doing with her life? She gets up, throws on a sweater, and writes a quick note in the rare event that Delly would wake up.

She walks towards the door like a woman on a mission - only, she's not saving the world. Just buying a bag of Doritos.

Her dramatic moment is ruined, however, when she opens the door against someone's body. And not a lightweight, either. Though she hears a muffled cry of protest, lets out a string of curse words louder than she should have.

"What the fuck?" she mutters as the body scrambles to a sitting position. She opens the door, and immediately, she sighs.

"Gale," she says, her voice dripping with disappointment. "What are you doing?"

"What are _you_ doing?" he asks, his lips quirking up in a half-smile. "It's a little past your bedtime."

"Screw you," Madge mutters, embarrased. She runs her hand through her hair, cursing the stars because she had to run into Gale Hawthorne at one of the least attractive moments she's ever experienced. A bad face day, if such a thing exists.

"Maybe later," Gale says, and Madge blushes immediately. Gale pokes her in the arm. "I'm just playing," he says, which is his way of saying _sorry I made a stupid joke and made you uncomfortable._

"Right. Anyway," Madge breathes, "what are you doing?"

"Thom's drunk," Gale shrugs, "and he's got some girl with him. I have no choice but to sleep here, among the dust bunnies."

"Mhmm," Madge sighs. Then a stupid, stupid thought runs through her head. Before she can shut it down, she blurts out, "Why don't you come in?"

Gale's eyes light up - just a little - and he stutters. "That's a joke, right?" he asks, his tone harsher than he wanted it to be.

Madge's cravings are forgotten as she stumbles back into her room. "Yeah," she laughs. "Goodni-"

"No," Gale says suddenly. "I mean, if you're not joking, I, uh, I don't want to sleep out here."

Madge smiles. Delly will never let her hear the end of this.

"Come on in," she says sarcastically, trying not to let him see that this is what she's wanted ever since she came to university and saw Gale's name scrawled on a Post-it note on the doorframe across from hers.

"My pleasure," Gale says, suddenly snaking his arm around her waist. "Don't trip," he teases. "You look a little...unstable."

"Fuck you," she giggles. "Come on."

"Like I said, maybe later," Gale teases again. Damn, this is too much for Madge. Her head is swimming and she can't breathe.

"Right," the blonde says, all attempts not to blush thrown out the window. She takes a blanket and pillow and throws them in front of the TV. "Go to bed," she says, not hiding her smile. "And be quiet. I'm going to sleep, too, and I swear to God, if you make any noise, I'm going to kill you."

"Oh, dear," Gale says with mock surprise. "I'll be sure to watch my back. I feel a bit threatened."

"Good," Madge smiles. She hates that he turns her into such a happy, bubbling, smiling mess. "Sleep well, Gale."

"You too, Madge," Gale says, with none of the sarcasm Madge's voice held. She stops for a moment. "...Yeah," she stutters, tripping into her own room.

The effect he had on her.


	4. Walmart

The one thing Madge always hated about Wal-Mart was the artificial sense of life it instilled into her. She would walk in at 8 PM and then, without even realizing it, she would spend five hours in the store, losing her sense of time and her sense of self.

It sounds dramatic, but she couldn't help feeling it.

Which is why she gave Gale a look of utter disappointment when the automatic doors welcomed them on a Saturday night (7:13 PM). "Stop it," he laughed, poking her arm. "You know you love this."

She did; Gale was her best friend. They'd wasted a half tank of gas driving around town before deciding to visit the store, which was a disappointing 3 miles from where they lived. She spent many a weekend like this with him the moment he acquired his temps (four months before she had gotten hers); if they weren't at Wal-Mart, they were at the record shop, or the candy store, or the bowling alley, raising hell in the smallest ways possible, igniting flames of every kind.

Except flames of the romantic nature.

Both Gale and Madge had agreed from the day they met - the second day of tenth grade - that they weren't harboring any non-platonic feelings for one another. There was no awkwardness; Madge never hesitated to tell Gale that he looked handsome, and he never got nervous before complimenting her on her physical beauty. They'd even shared beds a few times, out of necessity; it never ended with an awkward rom-com makeout session. The interest could be there, but it just wasn't. This was Madge's favorite thing about their friendship; they were never nervous around one another. An accidental brush of the lips was something to laugh about; they made sex jokes all the time; their parents and siblings didn't tease them about some hidden romance because one didn't exist.

This is why Madge had shown up for their latest outing in, possibly, the most démodé outfit she had ever put together: a pair of sweatpants - and not the kind celebrities leave the gym in - and one of Gale's own sweatshirts from _middle school._ Usually, Madge held herself to "civilized human being" standards where her wardrobe was concerned, but it was Wal-Mart. She'd spent enough time on "People of Walmart" to know that she was not the worst thing the employees had seen.

Gale, of course, had chosen that day to wear a polo and khakis to school. "You look like a teacher now!" Madge had teased him earlier that day. "Are you gonna go home and play golf tonight?"

"No," he'd laughed, drawing her closer, "I'm going to spend time with you."

(This was a moment that, had they not known better, their peers would start making jokes. However, it was basically common knowledge that Gale and Madge were not a _thing._)

Now, though, he poked fun at her, saying, "I'm glad _I _didn't choose to dress like I crawled up from hell today."

"Fuck off," she scowled, still not able to hide her smile. Gale was infectious, she'd give him that. The thing was, Gale could also rattle off a hundred great things about Madge; they both completely understood why someone would want to date the other.

Madge's train of thought was cut off when Gale vocalized a sound that could only be written as "JCAJLKXTGJSKLRTAJG." She gave him a look before following his gaze. She sighed, though smiling, when she realized they'd absentmindedly walked into the video game aisle, where Gale promptly began a match of Mario Kart against the computer demo.

"You never win," she said to him. "It's rigged."

"Shhh."

She rolled her eyes, amused by Gale's determination. She'd been through this before. She let her gaze wander throughout the artificially lit landscape, when something caught her eye that caused her stomach to drop.

It was Marvel, her ex-boyfriend, hard emphasis on the _ex._ It was the kind of breakup that left her angry, not sad; he was such an ass that he didn't deserve a single one of her tears. Not all, but many, of those feelings came back as soon as she caught his eye again for the first time in months.

The reason she'd allowed herself to get over the breakup in a mere two weeks was largely because he didn't go to her school. She'd met him through one of her father's many coworkers, and he went to a private school a few cities away. What the hell was he doing _here?_ Didn't he have virtually unlimited access to his father's credit card? Why would he, of all places, be at _Walmart? This_ Walmart, nonetheless?

Marvel didn't even know about Gale; she'd gone to great lengths to hide him, which should have been a sign early on, but alas, it never was.

"Gale," she elbowed him roughly.

"Fuck, Madge, I'm actually getting somewhere," he grumbled, not taking his eyes off the screen.

"Gale!" she repeated, her voice a yelling whisper. When he didn't answer, she pulled his hand off the controller and held it tight.

"What are you -?"

"Shh," she said, "my ex. He's right there." She motioned to the only other customer within a hundred feet, trying to keep her composure.

Gale gave her a _seriously?_ look and she nodded, rolling her eyes. Gale had never liked Marvel, calling his controlling tendencies far before Madge had ever seen them.

"He's going to hit on me, I can feel it," she said, her voice adopting a horrified edge. "He's just radiating 'fuckboy.'"

"What are you going to do?" he asked, but Madge hardly heard him, as Marvel was inching closer. Marvel knew she was there, but had chosen to ignore her. She just knew that he was hoping she would approach him.

She was still gripping Gale's hand, and his blood was still pumping because of it. He knew it was just a reflex, but his mind was racing, and he felt something he never had before.

_Jealousy?_ Over Madge?

"He's coming!" she hissed, and before Gale had time to even comprehend the sentence, her lips were on his, warm and urgent.

His first instict was to pull away, naturally. Whatever strange feeling he'd had just seconds before wasn't strong enough to constitute this.

"Just go with it!" she whispered sharply, pulling him back against her for a few more long (but not exactly unpleasant) seconds. Finally, when she pulled away, he took a shaky breath.

"What the fuck?"

Madge wasn't nearly as shaken. "He's gone now," she said. "As soon as he saw it. He's been staring at me for the past five minutes."

"What the fuck?" Gale repeated again, his tone slightly less surprised.

"I'm sorry," she shrugged, her voice growing softer as well. "I just - I didn't want him to come over here. I can't stand him. All the memories come back, and it makes me so _mad,_ and I couldn't have done anything else to get him to go away. I'm sorry - " she repeated again, taking a deep breath. " - I just, he makes me so _nervous._ I had to think fast."

"It's alright," Gale said, nodding, blinking rapidly. "It's - I get it. It's okay."

"Is it?" Madge said, her voice gaining back its stead. "I didn't mean to, like, invade your personal space. S-sorry."

"It's fine," Gale said, smiling, "I probably would have done the same thing. I know he's an asshole. I was just surprised."

"Okay," Madge grinned. "You, um, you wanna go..."

"Let's get some movies," Gale said. "I hear they've got some new D-list action movies from 2003 in the $5 bin."

"Sweet," Madge laughed, leaning into him as he put her arm around her.

It was fine. But Gale never forgot about it, and Madge never fully convinced herself that Marvel would have hit on her had she not kissed Gale.

They pushed it to the back of their minds, but never fully erased it.


	5. Stood Up

It's been two hours.

Madge sat at the table farthest away from the door at Sae's Salad Bar, her red lipstick and teardrop earrings starting to feel pointless and far too heavy. The only reason she didn't leave sooner was because she was too damn hopeful and too damn tired. Sae kept shooting her sorrowful looks; she'd come in earlier that morning with a swing in her step, so excited to go on her first date in nine months.

"Honey, can I get you anything?" Sae asked patiently, taking Madge's teacup.

"You've gotten me six cups of tea already," Madge says, her voice three-quarters misery and one quarter disappointed appreciation.

"I know," Sae said, her brow furrowed, "but it's the least I can do." Sae walked away, sure to bring Madge something whether she liked it or not.

Madge really, really liked Daniel; he had such a charming smile, laughed at all her jokes, and had a plan for his life. He was almost done with university, whereas Madge had just started her second year; she thought that being stood up was left in high school. With the boys, not the men.

"Madge, baby, here's your-oh, my, Gale Hawthorne!"

Madge looked up to see Sae's attention averted to a tall, lanky man opening the door, letting a sprinkling of snow blow into the room. A shiver ran through Madge's spine, and she really wished Sae would give her her tea - at this point, she was wallowing in self pity.

"Gale Hawthorne," the old woman repeated. Madge watched, not even trying to be discrete, her palms at her temples; her back began to hurt because she'd been slouching for an hour, but she didn't have the energy to move. She almost liked the dull, constant pain.

The man took off his hat and scarf - forest green, handmade - and wrapped Sae in his arms, laughing warmly. "Sae! It's so good to see you!" he told her.

"About damn time," she muttered, smiling up at him. "Sit, sit - it's ten minutes past closing, and Madge is the only one here. I'll make you something."

"Alright," Gale said, glancing in Madge's direction. She pulled the sleeves of her heather gray sweater down over her fingers, suddenly nervous. He was _very_ attractive, and at the moment, Madge was, well, not. She'd been silently crying on and off and wiped off most of her makeup in the process, ruined her curled hair by nervously running her sweaty palms through it, and had bitten two layers of skin off her lips. The worst time to be confronted with a man whose cheekbones were probably better than hers.

A minute passed when she heard him again. "Hey."

She looked up, finally straightening her back and wincing at the pain. He smiles as he sits down across from her, taking the menu that she had let go of. "What are you having?"

Madge sighed, not sure if she wanted to talk, but her tongue got the best of her. "Only my seventh cup of green tea."

"Bad night?" Gale looked up at her, raising an eyebrow.

"The worst."

"Well," he said, sighing, "I guess I'm paying, then."

"What?"

"For you," he said matter-of-factly. "You need to eat."

Madge was amused, but she said somewhat defensively, "Why do you get to decide if I'm hungry?"

"Doesn't matter if you're not hungry," Gale continued, no longer looking at her. "You need to eat."

Madge didn't have the energy to fight, so she let him order her something; she doesn't hear what. Sae came out with her now-cold beverage, which the cook offered to heat up, but Madge refused. She was caught off-guard by Sae's confused, yet satisfied, look when she saw Madge and Gale sitting together.

"So, why are you here?" Gale asked after a comfortable five minutes of silence. If he noticed that she's not in the mood to talk, he ignored it.

"None of your business," Madge says, running her fingers through her hair again, finally taking it out of its updo and letting the frizzy blonde mess fall to her shoulders untamed.

Gale laughs a little, but doesn't push forward; somehow, this only makes Madge want to tell him.

"I got stood up." Saying it, ever so quietly. Somehow, feeling the words leave her mouth only made them heavier, and tears threatened to spill again.

"No," Gale said.

Madge looked up at him, a bit irritated. "What do you mean? _I got stood up._"

"_No_," he repeated again. "I'm sorry, I just can't believe any asshole would ever stand a pretty girl like you up."

Before Madge could answer, Sae came to their table with two steaks. Madge's eyes widened.

"Enjoy," Sae said, a skip in her step as she walked back into the kitchen.

"Holy shit," Madge gasped, "you can't do this. These are like fifteen dollars."

"I believe I can," Gale said, "and I did."

"I'm not eating it."

"Then I will." Gale reached over with his fork, stabbing it into the meat before Madge could swat his hand away. She started _laughing. _This was not supposed to happen.

Madge cut the tip off the steak just to spite him and began chewing on it. She swallowed quickly, wanting very much to get back to their conversation. "So anyway, yeah," she said, "I got stood up, and I've been sitting here for almost three hours now, and it's 45 minutes past closing time. Pretty pathetic, yeah?"

"Not at all," Gale said. "I wouldn't want you going home and feeling sorry for yourself."

Madge fought the urge to snap, _What's that supposed to mean?_ and just looked at him instead.

More silence, and then Madge asked, "So why are you here?"

"I've been working overseas for the past year," Gale said. "I used to come around here all the time. My mom did Sae's laundry when I was younger."

"It looks like she really missed you," Madge said, smiling a little.

"She did." Gale looked up at her, smiling as well, and his gaze lingered on her just long enough to notice the color of his eyes: gray, but not cold and steely; more like warm, melted silver, they seemed to sparkle in the dim evening light.

"I'm sorry," Madge's resolve suddenly softened; she leaned back into the plasticky seat and looked out the window at the traffic down below. "I've had a terrible night, I really thought he was a great guy, and i've been taking it out on you, and you paid for my steak-"

"Hey, hey, it's fine," Gale said calmly. "I get it."

"No, you don't," Madge said miserably. "Who would ever stand _you_ up?"

Gale laughed; the sound made Madge wish she could hear it every second of every day. "I just said the same exact thing to you and it didn't look like you were buying it."

Madge shrugged, looking down at her hands. "Yeah, well."

"I have an idea," Gale said, taking a bill out of his wallet. "Sae would never tell us, but she's exhausted and wants to go home, I can see it. How about tomorrow night you meet me here and we won't stand each other up."

"What...? Um, sure," Madge was confused, but damn it if she didn't smile.

The pair stood up, sliding out of the booth; Gale helped her into her coat. "Promise me you'll get some sleep tonight," Gale murmured into her ear. "Please don't let him bother you."

"I won't," Madge said, mostly telling the truth. "Welcome home."

Gale smiled slightly, nodding; he took his car keys off the table and walked into the back room.

Madge caught one last glimpse of him before opening the door, facing the soft snow outside.

Daniel who?

* * *

><p><strong>AN: I'm so sorry I've been neglecting this site! I really don't want to end FTFNP but I'm just not in the right place to be writing it right now (say that five times fast). I still love writing, and Gadge is still my one and only, but for now I'm much better suited for oneshots (and possibly twoshots? ;)) I hope you guys like this one, it's based loosely on a prompt I saw on tumblr! Let me know if you like it!<strong>


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